


Emergency Plan

by ApexOnHigh



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Episode Related, Family, M/M, Trick Or Treat Prompts Challenge, Trick or Treat: Trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-08 15:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApexOnHigh/pseuds/ApexOnHigh
Summary: Darius Parker may not be finished with his plans for Fin, and SVU. John Munch may be more dangerous to challenge than Darius has anticipated.





	Emergency Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sidewinder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/gifts).



> This story contains references to the episodes "Venom" and "Screwed", as well as certain events in "Homicide: Life on the Street".

John tugged his heavy winter coat a little tighter against his body as he stepped out of the subway station. He only had a few blocks to walk home, but it seemed a particularly long distance tonight—and not simply due to the cold.

No, after this day's events, he felt a darkness and chill within him that cut far deeper.

Heading home alone, which was a rarity these evenings, didn't improve his state of mind. Fin had begged off any company tonight and John had understood why, even as he'd bitten back his frustration and concern. He ached to be there for his partner—for the man he loved—as he'd tried so hard to do throughout this entire trial. But Fin had the tendency to withdraw into himself during difficult times instead of allowing others to provide comfort and support. For the sake of their relationship John could and would respect that, as long as Fin didn't shut him out completely.

In contrast, John was having a very hard time respecting a justice system that could let that murderous bastard Darius Parker walk free. A system that seemed to care more about the minor missteps of a few SVU detectives than the brutal killing of a mother and her infant child. Oh, he understood how it had happened. He didn't even blame the jury for coming to the verdict they had rendered, based on the evidence they'd been _allowed_ to see. But it didn't make for an easier pill to swallow. Not when the people he cared about the most were hurting and they were a long, _long_ way from making any of this situation right.

Don, Liv, Elliot, and most painfully on a personal level, Fin...they'd all had their reputations dragged through the mud with the vulturous news reporters hanging on every word. Terry had been forced to reveal and relive the most painful parts of her life and in the end, for what? Maybe she _would_ have been better off running. For all of it had been orchestrated to Darius Parker's delight, some sick plan for revenge as much as to save his own skin from prison time.

To think, John had initially been impressed with his artistic eye. He'd wanted to believe that Darius was just a troubled young man dealt a bad hand in life. But any sympathy and compassion he'd held for him was long gone and regretted. Darius was the kind of predator who was always looking for weaknesses in others and eager to use that information to prey upon them. He was a sociopath, without question. John didn't have to consult with Dr. Huang to figure that much out.

 _"Least that bastard couldn't drag you through the mud, too,”_ Fin had said to John, one night as this had all played out in court. _"I'm glad that one of us is clean and can come through this without gettin' a black eye.”_

_"I already bungled his confession. I suppose he figured that was enough.”_

It had been a convenient answer, though John wasn't too sure he believed that was all there was to it. And that kept him wary.

Fin said they needed to forget about Darius; ignore him from this point forward and try to move on with their lives. John knew, though, that some people were nothing but pure poison. Ignoring them wouldn't make them go away.

Not forever.

But he couldn't do anything about that if it might put Fin even more at risk.

The streets of John's neighborhood were dim and quiet. No one wanted to linger outside in this cold and as the snow had begun to fall with heavier intensity. Concentrating on getting to his door and focused on his brooding thoughts, John paid less attention than usual to those surroundings. He had no idea he'd been followed, or that someone had been waiting in hiding for him, until he was at the entryway to his apartment building. Fumbling for his keys with gloved hands, a voice from not far away startled him by calling out, "Chilly out here tonight. Isn't it, detective?”

The chill only intensified as John instantly recognized that voice. He turned, slow and cautious, wishing his hand had grasped the handle of his gun and not his key ring. Darius Parker stood across the street, illuminated by the dim glow of the street lamp and the snow reflecting off the ground. He crossed with casual indifference and came up close to John. "Better hurry on inside before you catch a cold.”

"What do you want, Darius?” John was in no mood for games or gloating tonight. "You won. You got away with murder, you played hell with our department, and you nearly destroyed Teresa and Fin. So why aren't you out celebrating somewhere?”

"Oh, the night is still young. I see _you're_ home all alone tonight. What's the matter, Fin not in the mood for your usual evening thrills?” Darius chuckled and shook his head. "Shoulda known all these years he was a goddamned hypocrite. Turnin' a cold shoulder to his own son for being gay while livin' on the down-low himself.”

"Go to hell.”

"Don't worry, I've been living there for most of my life, ain't nothing new.”

Turning his back on a predator like Darius might seem a bad idea, but so was engaging with him. And John doubted Darius would try anything here, on his doorstep, the day he was the front page news throughout the city. So he went to put his key in the front door lock, turning it open, only to be caught off guard yet again.

"One more thing before you crawl into bed, Detective Munch. Did it ever cross your mind, during the trial, why I went after everyone in Fin's cozy inner circle…everyone except for you?”

John paused, half-way through the doorway. "Should it have?” he asked in his most innocent voice.

Darius chuckled. "You've already got the answer to that. But I'm betting Fin doesn't even know, does he? About certain things from your past. All the way back to Baltimore, that sweet old Charm City.”

The freezing cold had suddenly turned positively icy. John tried not to visibly react, to remain silent. _Let Darius spill out what he has to say,_ he thought. _Let him dig his own grave._

"See, you were my emergency plan. My ace in the hole, in case this jury needed something else to cast doubt upon those prosecuting me. Or if we had to go to appeal and I needed some new way to tighten the screws. Everyone thinks you're mister squeaky clean, don't they? How little they know about the _real_ John Munch, isn't that the truth?”

Darius stepped closer and started to reach inside his own jacket. John tensed, until he saw him pull out a large brown envelope, not a weapon. "What's that?” 

"A file Braden was able to get through a connection in the Baltimore PD. A murder case that was never closed. Crazy white boy who tried to take down four police detectives, critically injured three of them. Then he ended up dead the day he was released from police custody because they couldn't hold him on flimsy evidence. Any of that ringing a bell with you yet, Detective?”

Of course it was. The one thing John had always hoped would remain forever buried. For more than twenty years he'd tried to put it out of his mind—the _real_ reason he'd left Baltimore. When Timmy had told him of his suspicions he'd chosen to leave forever unresolved, it had still come too close for John's comfort.

Apparently Tim Bayliss wasn't the only one who could connect the obvious dots.

Even so, John said nothing, and let Darius enjoy his gleeful monologue. "Yeah, no one cares to look that deep when an enemy of the police gets killed—execution-style, no less. I bet they all slapped themselves on the back for a nice job done, no need to waste the court's time and money on a trial. Or fill up the prison system with another useless body. Street justice can be a beautiful thing, don't you agree?”

"Are you finished?” John finally snapped, having reached his limit.

"For now. Though I guess there's a part of me that wonders what they might find if they dug up _that_ body, looked a bit closer at the skeletons in _your_ closet.”

He tapped that envelope against his chest thoughtfully, then returned it to inside his coat. "You have a good night's sleep, Munch. We can catch up more on old business some other time.”

With that, Darius turned and walked away, disappearing into the snowy night. John watched him go before heading inside.

He had a lot to ponder now. And his own emergency plan he might need to put into action…but he would not be rash.

No. That might have worked once, for twenty years, at least. This time he'd have to be a lot more careful.

*

Don Cragen stepped out of his office, taking a moment to survey the squad room, his detectives. Things had, over the past few months, settled into some new kind of normal. Olivia and Elliot had worked out their issues; Fin was settling in (albeit stiffly) with his new partner Lake. And even John was grudgingly proving he had more command potential than he cared to admit.

Initial missteps as sergeant, of course, excluded.

Don wanted to believe they could all put past troubles behind them and focus once again on their jobs. So he hoped this latest news would help move that along—and not be the start of additional trouble.

"John, Fin,” he called. Fin looked up from his conversation with Lake, and John glanced up from his computer screen. "A minute in my office, please?”

Don noticed the quick wordless exchange that passed between them, nothing out of the ordinary as they put down what they were working on and walked toward the captain's office. He closed the door behind them after they stepped inside, and John immediately asked, "What's up, Captain?”

"Something that I thought you both should know as soon as possible. Fin especially, but...” Don left it at that. They could fill in the rest. Don knew where their personal relationship stood, but no one needed to broadcast it around the station. Thus he got to the point. "Darius Parker has been reported as missing, as of ten a.m. this morning.”

John's eyebrows quirked upwards, as he glanced toward Fin who remained stone-faced. "Who reported him?” John asked.

"One of his on-and-off girlfriends. Went over to his apartment after not being able to reach him on the phone for a few days. The place looked like it had been ransacked, with no signs of Darius to be found. Landlord said he was behind on rent and hadn't responded to calls for the past week about it, either.”

Fin shrugged. "Loser like Darius must've pissed off the wrong guy, had to blow out of town quick.”

"Or just skipped out on the landlord,” John added. "Any reason to suspect foul play?”

"The state of his apartment, as if someone had torn it apart looking for something very specific. Expensive jewelry and electronics were left behind, ruling out a simple burglary.”

"Like I said, he probably pissed off the wrong guy,” Fin repeated. "Darius didn't have a lot of friends. I doubt many people are going to miss him if he never shows up again.”

"Or turns up a floater in the Harlem River,” John added.

"Yes, well. Given the family connection I thought you should know before the news spreads.”

Fin nodded. "Anyone tell Teresa yet?”

"No,” Don said. "That's why it landed on my desk just now. It was suggested you might be the best person to inform her.”

"Yeah. For once I guess I'll be the bearer of good news.”

"If you're certain that's what it is.”

"Darius ain't never been anything but trouble for Teresa and her family. _My_ family,” Fin insisted. "And for everyone in this unit. I don't think there will be many tears shed that he's vanished, or much call to investigate what's happened to him.”

"And he may show up again on his own. Probably when we least want him to,” John added. "Still, want me to talk to Ken? If that's all right with you, Fin. In case he heard anything from his half-brother the last few days.”

Fin shrugged again, as if it were no big deal. "Might not be a bad idea,” Don said. "Missing persons has the case. I'll give you the contact information for the detectives working it, in case you make any progress.”

"Anything else?” Fin asked. "'Cause if not, I'd better go get to Teresa.”

"Go on,” Don dismissed him. John lingered behind while Don copied over the names and phone number he'd gotten from the Missing Persons Squad.

"Thanks.” John took it and went for the door.

"John?”

"Captain?”

Don hesitated. After nearly forty years a cop, his instincts were telling him something about this wasn't quite adding up. But he also didn't want to be mistrustful of one—or two—of the members of his unit he had long respected to be the most solid, the least likely to bend the rules.

Let alone take justice into their own hands.

And yet…

"You know I have to ask. If there is a body found or other evidence of foul play, there will be some suspicion cast on this unit.”

"Undoubtably.”

"And there's nothing you or Fin have knowledge of at this time.”

"I'm as surprised by the news as you are, Captain.”

"All right. Keep me posted.”

John left and Don returned to his desk, taking a seat and mulling it all over. Reflecting on the events of this past year, months before and…more recently.

An envelope, sitting filed away in the back of his desk cabinet drawer. One which had appeared amidst his office mail one morning, with no note, no indication of who it had been from.

He thought about it some more, then opened that drawer to retrieve it. And then he spun around to power on his shredder, watching and listening as it turned the envelope into nothing more than the day's recycling.

Sometimes you had to go on instinct. And just pray that decisions made then wouldn't come to haunt you later on.


End file.
